Halcyon
by Kaytoko
Summary: She thought everything would be perfect; she thought their lives would continue to intertwine forever. But reality was as cruel as his comforting hand atop hers. No matter how hard she tried, he would never be hers. Because he already belonged to another faceless woman she had never known. Irosami. Oneshot.


**A/N:** I posted this about a month ago during finals week when I was trying to focus on writing a 14 page paper. (Ha.) And this got a lot more attention on tumblr than I was anticipating. So, I decided to share it with you guys as well. I hope you enjoy a little different flavor of Irosami. ;)

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_Halcyon_

Asami was silent.

She could hear him talking, but her mind had long stopped listening to the words he said. Instead, she stared blankly at the supposedly comforting way he had his hands atop of hers, his calloused fingers gently holding her own between the palms of his hands. The same hands she had fallen so completely in love with over the last four years.

The same hands that would never belong to her.

Perhaps she had gotten to used to the idea of him being around. He had overstayed his time away from the Fire Nation, spending his days with her instead, watching her build her cars and her planes and all the other little inventions she had dreamed up, that same warm smile pulling up the edges of his mouth as he practiced his firebending. He always seemed so unconcerned about the details of the world, preferring not to talk about the issues that plagued the world while he was with her. Once or twice she wondered if he really cared. Now she saw that he simply chose not to talk about it with her. Not that she cared much to ask him about it throughout the years.

She should have known better. When she started spending time with him after the fall of Amon, during the time she spent struggling to pull her father's company back together under her direction, she wanted nothing more than escape from reality, and he was more than willing to give it to her. Perhaps he needed the escape just as much as she did.

It started as a casual friendship: tea after lunch on the weekends, dinner on Friday nights at the local noodle shop when neither one of them were feeling up to anything fancy or demanding. They talked for hours without realizing it, wandered the dark nights together and laughed until the sun rose. Somewhere between moving past Mako and rising past the dishonor of her father, she found herself unintentionally falling in love with the general of the United Forces.

Perhaps she always knew that a relationship with him would never work out. But that didn't stop the fact that their casual meetings slowly took a turn toward the intimate, where lingering looks followed soft laughter and brief, comforting hugs extended into unintentionally prolonged embraces. Every touch held a spark of fire and soon she found herself drowning in the succulent taste of his lips on hers.

Regardless of the bliss she felt from being with him, despite the completeness she felt deep inside her every time he would would smile at her, something kept her from giving herself completely to him. A small, doubtful hesitance that questioned his silences and took note of his lack of commitment. He never promised her his future, nor did he ever tell her he loved her. Something stilled his tongue, but couldn't quite still his heart. She never questioned him. The look in his eyes told her she never had to.

He was still talking, whispering now. His eyes were downcast, his lips turned down. He turned his hands, holding hers tighter. It was a simple, gentle reassurance. Not that it mattered much. Her face was stoic, but her heart was breaking. Slowly, painfully, her heart twisted in her chest until it hurt to breathe. He was leaving. Leaving _her_ to marry _someone else_.

_I have no choice_, he said. Duty as the _Crown Prince_. Engaged since birth. Didn't want to. _I'm sorry, Asami_.

She closed her eyes, ignoring the sting of tears. Somehow, she knew this was coming. She saw it in every silence, every lingering kiss, every carefully drawn out moment where his mind would leave him for longer than she was used to. She always wondered what he was thinking about. Now she knew.

A part of her wanted to be upset and angry for him not telling her. He could have explained what was coming early on so that she didn't fall in love with him and she wouldn't have experienced this terrible, gut-wrenching pain that threatened to fell her entire stature, but she wasn't sure that would have made much of a difference. It was with a heavy heart that she realized that nothing would have been different if she had known. She would have always fallen in love with him.

And for that, she couldn't be mad.

Opening her eyes, she forced herself to look up at him. Up at those eyes of smoldering, somber gold that seemed to warm her heart, no matter how twisted and broken it felt. Somehow, she managed to pull her lips into a smile and twist her hands over to hold his in the same warm and comforting hold he had on hers. Through the thickness of her throat, she spoke.

_I understand_, she said. Her voice was clear. Solid. Unmistakable.

A tear rolled down her cheek. She looked away, but didn't reach up to brush it aside. Her throat spasmed with suppressed emotion.

He hesitated, and for a brief moment the words they never spoke, the commitment they never made formed themselves upon his tongue. But before they escaped into the air between them, he closed his mouth. Pressing his lips together, he released one of her hands to reach forward, gently brushing his calloused fingers against the softness of her cheek. Her single tear lifted and spread across his palm as he slipped his hand behind her head, and gently, he leaned forward to place a kiss upon her forehead.

A lingering, saddened kiss that spoke every word they never said and expressed every emotion ever felt. And for a moment, Asami let herself feel everything she had ever experienced with him. For a moment, her heart felt light. But his lips pulled away, and all that was left was a hollow place in her heart where she now kept his memory.

A final gift.

A goodbye.

The door closed softly behind him and Asami was left alone.

Slowly, as if she couldn't move as fast as her mind did, she folded upon herself, twisting her fingers through her hair, sitting in the chair he left her in, her love, her prince, her _Iroh_— She let a soft sob wrestle its way from her tightly clenched mouth and for the first time in _years_, Asami Sato cried.


End file.
